Tolerance and Space for the Other - the Tower of Babel

Tolerance is necessary, and it cannot simply be replaced with a celebration of differences in every situation. I acknowledge that there are people who don’t want to be tolerated and, in principle, we should affirm all people, not just put up with them. Still, we need tolerance as a tool in the toolbox against hate. 

Ideally, tolerance would be applied only to attitudes or behaviours that we strongly disapprove of, while people should be valued for who they are (1). In reality, the distinction between people and their behaviours and attitudes is fraught because some people see their own identities or the identities of others as inseparable from their politics, religious convictions, behaviours, or attachment to places where harm was done. In such cases, there is often a sense that the only choice is either acceptance, agreement and approval on the one hand or hatred and intolerance on the other hand, of both the person and the position.

However, tolerance is a good third option, even if it may be a less inspiring option in a range of stances one can take as part of the broader imperative of making space for “others”.

I was moved the other week by the words of a softly spoken, academic, Muslim woman and migrant to Australia who attended a roundtable that Together for Humanity organised with the Federal Minister for Education. She said how pleased she was to have a seat at the table. On merit alone, she certainly belonged there, but too often there is not enough space created for difference.

There is a verse in the Book of Genesis story of the Tower of Babel that seems benign but that I find chilling. “[All the people of] the whole earth were of one language and singular words” (2). Everyone, apparently, agreed with everyone else about everything, including the construction of a great tower. Thinking about this more deeply, we need to consider that the only way to have everyone across humanity agree on everything is by suppression of dissent (3). In such a context, this Tower would provide an opportunity for surveillance and to enforce totalitarianism. One person who disagreed with the enforced “groupthink” was Ashur, who had to leave civilisation (4). Another was Abraham, who, according to the Midrash, would later be thrown into a fiery furnace for daring to have another view (5). It was only after the defeat of the tower that Abraham and Ethical Monotheism emerged, thereby illustrating how putting an end to imposed conformity can unleash human flourishing. 

I read a wonderful idea by the philosopher known as Manitou (6), that the primary challenge of all of human history is to leave space for the “other”. I love that.

I have been thinking a lot about Cain and Abel. Like my older brother Mendel and me and our many siblings, these two siblings were very different people, something that we recognise and acknowledge. Cain was a firstborn, a very practical and substantial (7) man. He produced food as a farmer for his whole family (8). He was the one who initiated the first act of worship (9). His mother thought that his birth was the most significant event in contrast to the much less exciting birth of his brother, which passed without comment or celebration. Abel’s Hebrew name, Hevel, means air or vanity. Far less practical than his high-achieving older brother, he became a shepherd. In a vegetarian age, that was not very productive, but it gave him the chance to contemplate the big questions of life, while standing around with his sheep. Unlike my brother Mendel and me, Cain and Abel never appear to appreciate each other’s distinct ways.

Cain eventually killed Abel. Before he did so, there appeared to be an interrupted attempt (10) at dialogue between them. Genesis tells us that “Cain said to Abel” but mentions nothing about what he said, only that the dialogue was followed by murder.    

 According to the Midrash, Cain believed that, as Adam and Eve’s son, all of the earth belonged to him (11). He did not think Abel had any right to exist on “his earth”. Cain began to talk at Abel. Abel failed to assert himself and claim a space for himself (12). The two brothers failed to appreciate each other’s ways of being and at least to tolerate those ways.    

While I have argued for tolerance to be included in the toolbox for creating space for others, there are other tools. These include curiosity and questions like “tell me more”, instead of assuming we fully understand others without deep and slow listening. Another tool is the courage to sit with the discomfort of hearing the lived experience of others that can be painful to hear.  Hopefully, we can get to a stage where tolerance is invoked far less often than appreciation and celebration of difference. Until then, I will do what I can to promote not just connection across difference but also tolerance.

 Notes

1)       https://ethics.org.au/explainer-tolerance/

2)       Genesis 11:1

3)       Haemek Davar, Bick, E. Unity and Individualism, https://etzion.org.il/en

4)       Midrash Rabba

5)       Kahn, Y. Tower Bavel The Brotherhood of Man - https://etzion.org.il/en

6)       Ashkenazi, Y.L., Sod Midrash ha-Toldot, III, p. 151, cited in Eitam, U. https://etzion.org.il/en/philosophy/great-thinkers/manitou/kayin-and-hevel

7)       Bick, E, https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/torah/sefer-bereishit/parashat-bereishit/bereishit-raising-cain-and-hevel

8)       Haemek Davar

9)      Genesis 4:3, Bick, E, https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/torah/sefer-bereishit/parashat-bereishit/bereishit-raising-cain-and-hevel

10)    Genesis 4:8

11)    Midrash Rabba

12)   Eitam, U. https://etzion.org.il/en/philosophy/great-thinkers/manitou/kayin-and-hevel

Rabbi’s Speech at a Mosque Exploring Stance towards Others and the "West"

(Edited version of my talk as part of an interfaith panel, talking about contemporary challenges in Judaism, at Imam Hasan Centre, Annangrove, Sydney, Australia, 1 July 2017)

I begin with acknowledgement of country in a way that reflects my Jewish heritage. We customarily allude to the Sidra, the Torah reading of the week. In it, we read an Emorite war poem, celebrating the victory in battle over the city of Heshbon by the Emorite King, Sihon.

"עַל כֵּן יֹאמְרוּ הַמֹּשְׁלִים בֹּאוּ חֶשְׁבּוֹן תִּבָּנֶה וְתִכּוֹנֵן עִיר סִיחוֹן:

“Therefore, those who speak in parables, say, "Come to Heshbon, it will be built and established, the city of Sihon”. (1)

The poet, the evil Balaam (2), contrasted a propaganda version of the condition of this city before and after its conquest by the Emorites. “When it was under the sovereignty of Moab [the poet claims], it was desolate and empty, but now that it was taken by Sihon, he will make it great and honoured, all people will flock to Heshbon to rejoice and dwell in it, because without a doubt it will be built and established because it is the city of Sihon”. (3)

As an Australian, I read this poem as a claim that Heshbon was almost a “Terra Nullius” (4) before the conquest by the Emorites. I link the poem with what I have learned about the experience of Aboriginal people from an Aboriginal man. He explained his history to me. When this land was taken by the English, the new power downplayed the existing civilisation, disregarding their traditions and lore relating to caring for land and each other.

Tonight, I pay my respects to the original people of this land, the Darug Elders, past, present and emerging, in a way that I can relate from my own traditions.

One challenge for people of faith is to truly honour the greatness of others and resist any temptation to see one’s own tradition as holding all wisdom. Indeed, our sages taught “if someone tells you that there is wisdom among the nations, you should believe him” (5).

As a Jew, I appreciate wisdom, altruism and sincerity in people of different religions and no religion at all. This includes the greatness of Western democracies as systems of government that deliver - albeit imperfectly -  just outcomes to many people. I honour traditions of constraints on the powers of people in government and equality before the law among others. As a person of a minority faith in the West, I am particularly grateful for the freedom Western traditions of government give me to live according to my own beliefs and traditions. This freedom cannot be taken for granted. For much of Jewish history, it was denied us, as recently as in the lifetime of my own grandfather, during the last century, in the Soviet Union.

On the other hand, the relationship between the “West” and some people of faith living in the West, is not free of conflict. It is true that human flaws have always been part of the lives of all humans, regardless of culture. Still, living in a cultural context that includes voices - in entertainment and advertising - that promote hedonism, impulsivity and instant self-gratification, makes it harder for people of faith to fulfil some of the spiritual and personal growth related aims of our faiths. A utilitarian worldview will be at odds with one centred on divine worship and obligations.

I return to the verse about the conquest of Heshbon, looking at it not as a historical poem, but as an aid to remember a traditional moral message (6). Using traditional wordplay the Talmud interpreted it thus:  

“Therefore the “rulers”, i.e. those who rule their [own evil] inclination [impulses], will say, let us come to the calculation of the world, the cost of [fulfilling] a commandment, against its reward. The [short term] benefit of a sin against its loss. ...If you do this you will be built in this world [life] and established in the world to come [the afterlife]. If, however, a person makes himself like a young donkey, that follows pleasant talk… a fire will go forth from Heshbon…(7)” .

In this interpretation, my tradition is urging me to be duty-oriented. It warns me not to be drawn like “a young donkey”, after every beep alert on my mobile phone telling me there is a pleasant comment on whatsapp or twitter. Instead, I must focus on my obligations.    

In respecting people of other cultures, we don’t lose the right to honestly critique competing cultural approaches that might entice us away from our own traditions. We have a right to be different from each other, which means we can make truth claims or virtue claims about beliefs, practices and ways of being. In doing so let us avoid Balaam’s error of thinking only one group has a monopoly on greatness. By inviting me, the Christian speaker and the parliamentarian here tonight, you are once again demonstrating the long-standing commitment of the Imam Hasan Centre to this principle.

Notes

1.       Numbers 21:27-28

2.       Midrash Tanchuma Chukkath 24, Num. Rabbah 19:30, cited in Rashi   

3.       Abarbanel, page 186, 27, in Horev 2008, Edition, Jerusalem,

4.       The term is technically about ownership of land and means “a land belonging to no one”, but can be understood more broadly, to be a way of erasing the significance of the civilisation that came before. Ogleby, C. L. frames it as follows: “As the ships of the First Fleet anchored in Sydney Cove on the 7th February 1788, and the British flag was raised on the shore above the convicts and their masters to the echoes of a rifle salute and toasts of port, the foundations for a new Colony were being laid on British soil. Terra Australis had been claimed in both sovereignty and ownership by the British Crown as terra nullius - literally a 'land belonging to nobody'. Although somewhere between one half and one million people inhabited the island (Mulvaney 1989, but estimates vary), their culture, customs and custodianship of the land was denied. Over the last 200 years the concept of terra nullius has been used to justify the dispossession of the original inhabitants of this country. It has also been responsible for framing attitudes towards the Aboriginal people and still forms the basis of all land law in Australia”. http://www.csdila.unimelb.edu.au/publication/misc/anthology/article/artic7.htm

5.       Eicha Rabba, 2:16

6.       This approach follows the Rashba as cited in Torah Temima, Numbers 21:18, notes 16 -21

7.       Talmud, Bava Basra 78b, appreciating the word-play really depends on understanding the Hebrew original.

Eruv, An Angry Intercultural Misunderstanding And A Democratic Contest

It's the morning after a big night of democracy and I was still quite emotional about it. Two hundred of my neighbors attended a meeting at my local council to be part of a tense and dramatic debate about the “St Ives Eruv". “What is that?” many would wonder.  Apparently the answer to that question was hotly contested.

For some of my neighbors it is a highly divisive threat to the community, for others it's offensive infrastructure. For me, and for many Jewish members of the community, it's a technical religious solution to a practical problem, particularly for young Jewish mothers and their families. According to Jewish law, one should not carry anything in public areas on the Sabbath. For centuries this has meant that men and children went to the synagogue on Saturday morning for several hours of prayer and community while mothers of young children and babies stayed home, as pushing a pram or carrying a baby in public on the Sabbath is not permitted. Today's young women think of themselves as full members of the community and they are not happy to stay home, they also want to visit family and friends and to be included in community prayers on the Sabbath.

The solution to this problem has been the creation of a symbolic set of doorways, called an “Eruv” which would mean that the area encircled by these symbolic doorways would be deemed a great big courtyard, allowing them to push their prams and carry children. With the abundance of power poles in the area and the wires between them the simple addition of plastic conduits on the side of the poles completes the Eruv.

A few years ago an Eruv was proposed to the council, our local government authority. A website was created that referred to the Eruv simply as a wall. The council refused permission. I respect the democratic process and accepted the decision of our elected officials at the time. The organisers of the Eruv pursued the legal process further but eventually received legal advice that they didn't need council permission to proceed. The Eruv went up, allowing women to join their communities for prayers on the Sabbath..

Recently, the Eruv saga took a wild turn. A new application was lodged with council and some residents framed their opposition to it a leaflet. They claimed there was a real “risk of an Eruv morphing into a religious enclave”  Furthermore, “By the very nature of an Eruv, the process of segregation, as opposed to integration must take place.” And it was “establishing a modern version of the ghetto...and eventual expulsion of secular people who live within the Eruv.” These claims were essentially repeated to the packed meeting at Council.

The original translation of Eruv as a wall probably contributed to this misunderstanding. However, a big part of the problem was that opponents of the Eruv relied on internet research to understand their own neighbours’ religion and culture, rather than talking to them directly. One local Rabbi has challenged his congregation to reflect on how much or how little effort we as a Jewish community make  to connect with our neighbors. On the other hand, we heard at the meeting from a warm-hearted Jewish teacher and mother named Megan who actually knew the names of all the diverse people who live on her street.. She talked passionately about how the Eruv helps her connect with the wider community, rather than being divisive. A young lady who was not Jewish passionately echoed Megan’s sentiments.

It was hard to tell which way the tense meeting would go. One opponent argued that the original refusal was the decision of the umpire and must be respected. One councillor argued that this was all about human rights. An Anglican minister argued this was about religious freedom. Another councillor argued this was not about tolerance or rights, it was about plastic conduits! I think asserting that “the issue is categorically not what the other person is saying", is one of the most annoying tactics to use in a conflict, cross cultural or otherwise. Clearly for the 200 people in the room is was about needs, process and principles, not just plastic.

A stand out comment was made by a councillor who had lived near a mosque in the inner city. He talked about how he made friends with the people at the Mosque and there were no problems. In response to the concerns about a religious enclave and objections to the plastic conduits, he asked rhetorically, “really?!”

In the end, the vote was eight for the Eruv and two against. There was a great feeling of joy in the room for those who won.

I approached an elderly Jewish woman who had spoken against the Eruv on the ground that it would create a Ghetto. I listened to her politely. She told me to get with the times, and embrace the modern idea of assimilation. I held my tongue. I wanted to say that in fact in these times, we longer expect people to hide their differences. This conversation was on Tuesday night, Australian time. By the next morning the results of the US election were known and it seemed she was up to date with the Trump era while I stuck in the past age of Multiculturalism. I don’t accept that this is the case. Trump’s attitudes to women and certain non-whites, in my view, represents a fading (yet substantial) relic, still putting up one last fight. Practically all the speakers against the Eruv were angry, people of advanced age. The world has changed to embrace difference, but we need to fight to keep the change and foster greater acceptance of diversity or at least tolerance. On Tuesday night on the North Shore of Sydney, we had one very sweet small victory. More to come!